


Walk By Faith

by saisei



Series: Faith [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saisei/pseuds/saisei
Summary: Ignis walked away after Noct died. Two years later, he's found.





	Walk By Faith

**Author's Note:**

> "Sink Low, Rise High" is its own story; this is an AU happy ending, because I made myself so sad.
>
>> It's okay to find the faith to saunter forward  
> With no fear of shadows spreading where you stand  
> And you'll breathe easier just knowing  
> That the worst is all behind you  
> And the waves that tossed the raft all night  
> Have set you on dry land   
> (Never Quite Free - The Mountain Goats)

After work was over, Ignis followed the main road down from the town office to the dockside restaurant, as he did most days. He took one of the tables on the outside deck, overlooking the water. The view from here was beautiful, or so he was told; personally, he liked hearing the waves and the cries of seabirds, and the breeze was always a pleasure. He tethered his cane to the railing as Marta told him about the meal of the day, grouper fresh off the boat and his choice of vegetable sides. He ordered, and looked out at the ocean while he waited, trying to estimate the tide by ear.

Marta brought him his wine first, which he'd learned to sip without grimacing. He was glad that the Lestallum vinyards had been allowed to operate during the time of darkness, but their output had become more vinegary the longer the night went on. He set the glass down and listened to the murmur of voices at other tables, though they were partly drowned out by children running and shrieking along the beach. The restaurant was not even half full, he estimated, but it would be packed in an hour. Rationing was still strict and most houses lacked cooking facilities, anyway. They'd only recently got the sewer system and wastewater reclamation plant up and running; residential electricity was next, and gas service was years away.

Some days he was terrified by how this community, which he'd made his home and dedicated himself to, could so easily be wiped out. Most of the time, however, he relished the challenges. Rebuilding – not simply restoration, but constantly striving for improvement – was immensely satisfying. Each resident had communal assignments – cooking and serving at the restaurant, catching fish and preserving them, tending the fields and so on – apart from their regular jobs, and he enjoyed both the camaraderie and the opportunity to master new skills. He was tired when he fell into bed at night and energized when he woke, looking forward to each day's new challenges. What more could he want?

He heard footsteps heading his way, and was trying to place that heavy tread – Erre? Taylor? – when the chair opposite him was dragged back and someone sat down.

"Yo," Gladio said, and Ignis froze. "Iris told me she saw you here, couple weeks back, passing through. Said she was scared to say _hi_ for fear you'd run. Again." A rustle of cloth, leaning forward, and then a distinct gulp. "Fuck, that's nasty, how do you drink that?" The glass was put down and pushed back in Ignis' direction. "You'd run now if you could, wouldn't you?"

Ignis was paralyzed, his thoughts running so quickly he couldn't find words to speak. He knew they were being watched, by Marta and whoever had cooking duty today, and by regulars he could probably call over by name. He was safe – and this was _Gladio_ , who wouldn't harm him. Quite the opposite. Ignis had been the one who hurt Gladio, time and again.

"Looks like you're doing good here," Gladio said after a minute, as though he was making an effort to be conversational and not confrontational. "Nice little town. Government job, which figures. Found someone better than me to cut your hair. Shitty way to leave your friends, though – were we that intolerable?"

Ignis shook his head.

"This about the kid, then? Still?" Gladio stole his wine again. "For fuck's sake, Iggy."

"I suspect he's the love of my life," Ignis murmured, putting his hands on the edge of the table to still their shaking. "I don't know how to _stop_. At least here my heart's not breaking on a daily basis." He frowned. "I _tried_ not to care for him, did you think I hadn't? But even now I'd give anything just to see him again." He took a breath and tried to meet Gladio's eyes, for at least the appearance of honesty. "He's not why I left – I was thirty-two years old and the purpose that had defined and consumed my life was over. As cliché as it undoubtedly is, I needed to discover myself, without relying on the tolerance and kindness of friends who were already moving on – who _deserved_ to move on and not be held back."

"I got married," Gladio said. "You weren't there. Got a kid now, too. I can tell you about what Iris and a whole bunch of people are up to, because all of them managed to move the fuck on without being cowards who walked off into the wilderness and were presumed dead for _two fucking years_."

His voice had risen nearly to a shout, and Ignis knew they were causing a scene and attracting unwanted interest. Someone would come over to intervene, and he didn't know what would happen next. He didn't want to fight, but neither did he want to be reduced to begging for forgiveness. His pride had been one of the few things he'd taken with him when he left.

"Hey," another voice chided, from the direction of the restaurant wall opposite the table. "You promised you wouldn't do this."

Ignis' blood ran cold, as if Shiva'd wrapped her icy fingers around his heart. Prompto was _here_ , and Ignis had been tricked, and _oh_ , but this was a fabulously-crafted revenge. There was no point in asking what he'd done to deserve this. They all knew.

"Shit," Gladio said. "I did."

Ignis reached out and unfastened his cane. Pushing his chair back carefully – for all he knew, someone else was hiding there – he stood, trailing his fingers along the edge of the table to orient himself. He wanted to say something scathing in parting, but he knew the best he could do was to try and leave with dignity.

"I can't _wait_ until the baby lets you sleep through the night again," Prompto muttered as Ignis passed. "No – you stay here." That was in response to Gladio's chair scraping back. "I got this."

Ignis did not want to be _got_ , but what else could he do? Run? Marta caught his arm as he headed for the door, asking if there was trouble, and he shook his head.

"Old friends," he explained. "Hunters." He told her Gladio could have his meal – wasting food wasn't tolerated these days – and he'd pay for it tomorrow. She gave his arm a squeeze before letting him go, and as he made his way down the stairs to the road he wondered if she'd ever want to see him again, once word got out.

He was aware of Prompto, hurrying to catch up to him because Marta had got in his way and told him off, but he simply... didn't know what to say or do. He was at a loss, in every imaginable way.

"I'm sorry," Prompto said, finally falling into step with him. "That was an asshole move, I didn't know – I suck, okay? Please don't be angry. Or, okay, be angry because I deserve it, but don't hate me."

That made Ignis laugh, short and harsh. "Wasn't the express purpose of this visit to confirm my feelings to be hatred's opposite?" He shrugged. "I expect I deserved it."

"Are you crying?" Prompto sounded horrified.

Ignis refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing him wipe his face clean. "No." He was _done_ with his eyes, betraying him at every turn.

"There're steps here leading down to the boardwalk," Prompto said. Ignis felt his hesitant touch at his elbow and stiffened to keep from flinching away. "Can we head that way?"

Ignis turned silently; he'd helped build these steps, as well as a good part of the boardwalk, and repaired the two fishing piers that the boardwalk connected. When he had the time and the weather was good, he enjoyed taking this route to work. He was distantly glad Prompto hadn't commented on how comfortable Ignis was relying on his cane these days; knowing he was being watched, he felt self-conscious as he so rarely did these days, but at least he wouldn't take a tumble off the side. Nothing in town had handrails yet.

"You have every right to be angry yourself," Ignis said, relieved that his voice was as steady as always. "When I departed Hammerhead, I knew you and Gladio were still in mourning, and yet – "

"You put yourself first," Prompto cut in, to rescue that precipitously dangling sentence. "Like thirty-odd years' worth of selfishness being cashed in all at once. Gladio and I drove a day and a half to get here, and we took turns yelling at each other about you and getting it out of our systems. You left a note that said _please_ three times, as if that'd stop anyone from worrying about their blind friend with a head injury walking into the wastelands after the death of his King and best friend. What's not to worry about?"

"I needed to leave," Ignis said, the words slow to come. He supposed it was an impossibly indefensible position.

"You manage stuff." Prompto's hand smacked into his arm, as if he'd thrown his arms wide, and he muttered an apology. "Even this place – you're up to your ears in government, right? And I bet you're awesome at it. But me and Gladio, we read that note and realized you'd slipped into managing _us_ and our grief. You could barely walk in a straight line and we let you arrange the funeral, because _that's what Iggy does_ , airquotes, and we assumed you'd come to talk to us about your feelings, except when have you ever?" Prompto huffed out a laugh that sounded frustrated. "You and Gladio were so close, I always figured he was there for you when you lost your sight, but on the drive down he said you mostly asked for training. You asked me for help getting around. So was it Noct you talked to about how you fucking felt? I don't think so."

Ignis was startled by the familiar way Prompto spoke Noctis' name, as if remembering him out loud wasn't rare, the sharp edges of grief worn down to fondness and regret. Ignis felt a pang, envying him that ease. He thought he might be able to talk about Noct now, but he'd engineered circumstances so he had no one to tell, which until now had suited him. He had never been one for self-indulgent navel-gazing in the first place, and he'd never been called out for it before. He'd assumed no one noticed.

"I get that you're a private person," Prompto said, when Ignis didn't give him answers. "But no wonder you had to cut and run. Otherwise you might've exploded."

There was no reasonable reply to that, except to tacitly agree. "I apologize."

"Oh, fuck you," Prompto said on a laugh, and he tapped Ignis' shoulder with his fist. "I got your name tattooed on my shoulder," he added. "You and Noct. The first time Gladio saw it he took me out drinking and told me it was his fault you left – well. _Died_ , he said, 'cause that's what we believed after we'd given up looking. Anyway. He said, 'Iggy ever tell you he liked you?', and I was like, _What_? And he talked about fraternization rules, and how long he'd waited to propose, putting duty to the Crown before love and all that, and how he should have told you to break regulations years ago. And I was like – _Years_?"

"I never would have," Ignis said. His voice sounded too quiet and too barbed, but he didn't know how to take any of this with grace or equanimity. "As he well knows."

"All my life I've wanted to be loved and to belong," Prompto said. His foot scuffed across the boards like he was kicking something, perhaps a stone or a shell. "I feel like an idiot for never _noticing_."

Ignis sighed, and submitted his heart for dissection. "Had I made a grand romantic confession, I cannot swear our friendship wouldn't have been impacted by rejection, no matter how kindly phrased. And in the unlikely event you accepted... as Gladio said, we'd have been compelled by responsibilities to wait. Neither position was, I felt, tenable – or savory, to be honest." He took another deep breath, tasting sea salt on the air. "My personal feelings aside, you belonged with us as soon as you joined the Crownsguard. Don't doubt that, or how very much all of us – " even those who were gone now "– care for you."

"Noct was never a problem," Prompto said ruefully. "Weird, right, because he was the prince, but we were friends before everything else. It took me ages, though, not to feel like Gladio wanted to get rid of me. And you could be so _mean_ , I thought you hated me."

"I remember." He still felt the burn of shame for having ever given Prompto that impression. "I also recall telling you that I, in fact, liked you very much."

Prompto's steps jerked to an abrupt halt. Ignis paused as well, half-turning, trying to discern what was wrong.

"You _did_ ," Prompto breathed, sounding stunned. "Six above, you did and I never – "

"I take a possibly obscene amount of pride in my ability to express myself," Ignis reminded him dryly. "Please don't insult me by implying I didn't understand how my words would be interpreted. Had I desired to be clearer, there'd have been no ambiguity."

"Ambiguity _this_ ," Prompto said, and the words were accompanied by a jab of his finger against Ignis' shoulder. He didn't sound upset, so Ignis spread his free hand and told him that he was all ears. "Soon as Iris called Gladio he called me. Right now I got my tools and a generator packed into Gladio's truck, and I am ready to move here, open shop, and basically never let you leave my sight again, if you just say the word. Course, I was too fucking scared to actually talk to you, so I got Gladio to help, and it's not his fault he's a mess, his kid's teething. I'm the one without a good excuse. Fair warning, getting over being terrified of life is a two steps forward, one step back deal for me, most of the time."

He stopped talking and sucked in a deep breath, as if he'd run out of air getting all that out. Ignis felt nearly as breathless. His life these days was hard but mostly predictable; he was unaccustomed to swinging from guilt to fear to grief to hope, and he felt worn through and transparent, unable to defend himself.

But perhaps defense wasn't needed. Maybe he required nothing more than faith. He was used to walking blind and trusting his feet would find the ground; surely he could trust Prompto in the same way. In the past, Prompto had always tried his hardest not to let him fall.

"Planning a second date to top this is going to be hard, though," Prompto said, uncertainty making his words hesitant and questioning. "I'll really have to level up my game. If you want me to."

"Yes." Ignis felt the tightness in his chest loosen, as if he were setting himself free. "I want you. Here, if you'll stay. With me, for as long as you can put up with me."

"Okay," and Ignis could hear Prompto's smile. "Okay, good, let's – " He took a step forward and then huffed in amused annoyance. "You're too tall."

Ignis had a very good retort to that – _his_ height wasn't a problem, in his opinion – but Prompto placed his hand over the hinge of his jaw, fingers below his ear and thumb tracing an arc under his cheek, and his thoughts whited out. He felt Prompto tense, and realized he'd gone up on his toes in the same instant he felt lips brush over his own.

He kissed back, letting his cane fall so his hands were free to hold Prompto and _see_ him, as he'd thirsted to do all these dark years. He was still slender; his shirt was sleeveless and his arms were still strong, with his signature bandanna tied around his biceps. His hair was longer in the back, Ignis thought, though he couldn't be positive. He felt as if he'd need to keep kissing Prompto forever to discover everything about him, or at any rate, he wanted to.

When Prompto pulled back, Ignis made a noise of protest, too lightheaded to stop himself. Prompto wrapped him up in his arms and leaned his head on Ignis' shoulder.

"This is a very romantic beach," he said, his voice roughened with what Ignis desperately hoped was desire, "with the sunset and all, but there's dudes fishing just over there and I think we're more interesting than staring at the water."

"Of course we are," Ignis said absently, and was shaken by Prompto's laughter.

When he'd done, Prompto added, "Also, we should go reassure Gladio that he didn't ruin everything." He stepped back and disappeared for a disconcerting moment; when he reappeared, he pressed the cane into Ignis' hand, giving his fingers a squeeze. "I'll show you some baby pictures – not all of them, I've got well over a hundred. Gladio keeps stealing my camera."

"Perhaps tomorrow," Ignis said. "You should eat – and you're both welcome to stay at my house, of course. It's small, but I have well-water and a patched roof." He wasn't sure he had lights, however – perhaps he could borrow a lantern.

"I like roofs," Prompto said, still amused. "Gladio brought his tent just in case, but camping on regular land freaks me out, you know? I can't sleep if we're not at a Haven."

Ignis hummed, non-committal. He'd slept rough all the months he'd spent wandering, before he'd settled here. Only rarely had he woken to find something was trying to eat him, and he'd never encountered anything remotely like a daemon. He doubted Prompto would be comforted to hear that, however.

He must have underestimated how much his thoughts showed on his face, though, because Prompto took a step back and said, voice suddenly serious, "Wait, you're managing us again. _I_ should eat? You got to let me care _back_ , man."

"You can't expect the habits of thirty very odd years to be broken overnight," Ignis pointed out. He nearly mentioned that he prided himself on his independence – on being competent and capable – and the work it had taken to regain, but he held back. Prompto was right: he never had been able to be gracious about being vulnerable. He'd have to learn.

Prompto snorted. "We'll do trust-building exercises, like back in Crownsguard training. It'll be fun. Give me your hand?"

Ignis reached out, and strong callused fingers wrapped around his own, giving a warm squeeze before settling into a firm hold. Surely Prompto didn't intend to walk like this, the way lovers did in the streets of Lestallum? Ignis never made such a bold or embarrassing display of his emotions. He could pull his hand back, but to his consternation he felt comfort instead of self-consciousness. He _wanted_.

Prompto gave a teasing tug forward, and Ignis followed.


End file.
